Perfectly Perfect
by just-nikki
Summary: Kirsten likes to pretend things aren’t always what they seem. And sometimes, she finds, they truly aren’t. SethRyan KirstenSandy SLASH


Title: Perfectly Perfect

Rating: PG

Summary: Kirsten likes to pretend things aren't always what they seem. And sometimes, she finds, they truly aren't.

Pairings: Seth/Ryan, Kirsten/Sandy

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did own The O.C, you'd know it. There'd be yummy Seth/Ryan-ness every episode. Sue me and you will receive a puppy and a dirty soccer sock that has lost its mate.

Kirsten likes to pretend that things aren't always what they seem.

When Seth sailed away and Ryan went back to Chino, Kirsten pretended they had both gone off the visit the Nana. They were having a fabulous time, and wrote often, but their letters got lost in the mail.

When Rebecca came back, Kirsten pretended she had married Jimmy. She pretended they were still madly in love, and he would never make her worry like Sandy is. It scared her that the idea of marrying Jimmy never completely left her. It scares her that, if she and Sandy don't work out (even though she knows they will), she would marry him if he asked her.

She likes to pretend that rehab is actually a very exclusive club. She is surprised to find she likes those in rehab better than Julie and the rest of the Newpsies.

Kirsten pretends she doesn't miss her father as much as she does. She pretends he is away on a business trip in Europe, but he'll be home soon. She can't pretend away how much it hurts to know he's not coming back.

Kirsten pretends Seth isn't going to graduate in a year. She pretends she isn't really losing her little boy. She pretends he's still seven, and up in his room, playing with Captain Oats like he used to.

Kirsten thinks life would be more fun if she could pretend away her problems. There'd be a helluva lot less vodka if she could. Kirsten wonders if she could be happy with a perfect life. Supposedly, she used to have one, and she was happy then. She wonders how perfect things really were under the surface. She wonders if Sandy thought about Rebecca before she returned. She wonders if he knows she's thought about Jimmy.

Now that she's back from rehab, her father is dead, Sandy works, and Seth actually has a life, she spends a lot of time alone. It seems like everyone's life is working out better than hers. Even Julie and Jimmy are getting back together.

Only one person seems to be worse off than her, and that's Ryan.

Poor Ryan, she thinks. Had his brother brought back into his life, and rehabilitated, and then to have that happen...

Kirsten pretends away Ryan's problems and finds, in her daydream, Ryan is her son and always has been. Kirsten finds she has pretended out AJ, Trey, and Dawn completely. Kirsten doesn't like when people she loves are hurt.

Sometimes Kirsten feels guilty after her daydreams, but usually she doesn't. Usually she is angry because life doesn't work out as perfectly as it does in her head. In her head, life is always perfect and nothing can wreck it, because Kirsten can always pretend up a solution.

Kirsten likes to pretend things aren't always as they seem, but, lately, it's getting harder.

She is starting to find some things only have one explanation, but still she tries. When she can't come up with an answer, she ignores it and prays it'll go away.

When she peers into the living room after getting home late, she sees Ryan and Seth watching old movies on Turner Classic Movies. She leans in the doorway and smiles at how at ease they are with each other until Ryan places his hand on Seth's leg. Kirsten pretends Ryan didn't mean to even though she knows he did.

Kirsten pretends she doesn't see Seth looking at Ryan the way he used to look at Summer. It's harder to pretend she doesn't see Ryan staring back.

Kirsten makes a lot of noise when she gets home now, just to make sure she doesn't walk in on anything. She pretends this isn't why she is doing this. Someone broke into Jimmy's house last week, she tells herself seriously. And I want to make sure the burglars know to leave when I get home.

Kirsten is amazed at how lame she is becoming.

She tries so hard to deny what she knows the truth is, but she can't.

One night Kirsten can't sleep. She makes coffee and sits in the living room with the lights off. She sees Seth creep down the stairs and go out back. When she goes into the kitchen, she sees him walking towards the pool house, where Ryan is waiting by the door. She pretends Seth can't sleep either, and he just wants to play some Playstation.

She pretends the game isn't in the main house, lying on the floor in front of where she had just been sitting.

When she sees Seth stop in front of Ryan, she bites her lip. When she sees Ryan reach out and pull Seth to him, she pretends Seth was tripping. Ryan was just helping him.

But when she sees Ryan slowly kiss her son, she stops. She lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

And she sees.

It was right there, but pretending is so much easier than really seeing it for what it is.

She wants to pretend she was only pretending because _that_ is just so wrong.

Kirsten knows. Kirsten realizes she has always known.

She stops to think and finds she has no real problem. No mental panic attack. No fictional asthma. She wonders if she's trying to find something wrong with the situation at hand.

Kirsten pours her coffee down the drain. She watches as Ryan takes Seth by the hand and pulls him into the pool house, Seth shutting the door behind them. The lights go off and Kirsten wonders.

Kirsten wonders why she never really saw it. She wonders why she tried to fervently to deny what was happening right in front of her. She wonders if Sandy knows.

She wishes Seth and Ryan had told her. She would have been fine with it.

_She would have been fine with it._

Kirsten thinks the words before she recognizes them as the truth; she knows though, that without pretending, it would have been okay. She knows nothing could make her stop loving Seth or Ryan, not ever.

That night she tells Sandy she loves she loves him and she's so sorry. He sleeps through it, but it makes her feel better to say it. That night Kirsten sleeps better than she ever has before. She gets up early and finds she isn't exhausted for once.

She's cutting bagels when she sees Seth and Ryan stumble out of the pool house, disorientated in the daylight. When they enter the kitchen and see her, they exchange nervous glances.

Kirsten pretends not to feel so dirty for knowing their secret.

Seth shrugs it off and grabs a bagel, and he and Ryan head into the living room for some Playstation. Kirsten hears Seth sighing about how fabulous summer vacation is, and Ryan lamenting that it's their last.

Sandy comes downstairs, kisses Kirsten on the cheek, and settles down at the counter with a newspaper and a bagel.

Kirsten smiles and looks around. Everything is different. Kirsten used to fear the changes that were taking over her family, but looking around she realized something.

She was happy. She was truly, genuinely, it's my birthday, presents on Christmas Eve, brand-new puppy, happy. Life sucked sometimes, this was blatantly obvious, but sometimes it was so overwhelmingly fabulous. Sometimes life surprises you and you wake up to perfect, beautiful days like this one. Sometimes you wake up and you can't imagine ever having wanted anything other than this.

Right now, Kirsten didn't care about before, or what would happen after. Right now, Kirsten wanted everyone to feel as fabulous as she did.

Kirsten pushed Sandy's newspaper to the side and kissed him. I love you, she announced. And I never stopped. Sandy's astonished grin is enough of a reply and she half-waltzes into the living room. Seth and Ryan are sitting side by side on the couch. She kisses them both on top of the head. I will always love you both-I promise, she whispers to them. She leaves the room too quickly to see Seth and Ryan turn around to look at her with gaping mouths and confused looks.

"Life is good," Kirsten tells herself as she walks up the stairs. "Life is perfect."


End file.
